


Welcome to the circus (the tightrope’s just ahead)

by DarkShadeless



Series: Poison is my remedy [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Co-Dependency, Implied bloody murder, Implied past torture, M/M, Marr did not sign up to be a baby-sitter for the entire Empire, Sith Timmns, Sith being Sith, how does this keep happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22466698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless
Summary: A study of Darth Talionis and Darth Sar through Marr's very aggravated eyes.
Relationships: Somminick Timmns/Male Sith Warrior
Series: Poison is my remedy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616107
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Welcome to the circus (the tightrope’s just ahead)

**Author's Note:**

> You best believe that these two have given Marr enough headaches to make his helmet cooling unit overheat.

In the current pantheon of Dark Lords of the Sith the Sphere of Military Offense is something of an irregularity. 

It is the only seat on the Dark Council, past or present, that doesn't have one holder but two.

In all honesty, Darth Marr did not expect that situation to last. Nobody did. If he remembers correctly that was the only reason it was allowed to come to pass. 

Generally, the succession of a Sith does not leave more than one survivor. The matter should have resolved itself in weeks at best, or so they thought.

What fools they were.

When Marr is forced to call upon the representatives of the Sphere closest aligned to his own for assistance in his campaign against the Revanites it has been seven years, almost to the day, that Darth Baras' students emerged from their month long meditative retreat with their master in such ruin a coronation had to be postponed pending investigation of his identity.

* * *

_Seven years ago_

"... in short, there is no doubt that," Darth Mortis makes a pause, in search of words that won’t force him to say 'the pile of dripping remains my investigators examined' and finally settles on, " _that_ ," seeing as his report comes with illustrative imagery, "is indeed the late Darth Baras. I see no reason not to proceed."

No reason but the _obvious_. Their former colleague's demise has left them with a curious problem.

Ravage, with his customary tact, addresses the elephant in the room directly. "Fantastic. Do you have any input on _who killed him?_ "

Judging by the mue of distaste Mortis pulls, he does not appreciate this bluntness, or perhaps that circumstances are forcing him to admit to failure. "Impossible to say. It could have been either of them or someone else entirely."

Seeing as the Sith in question were picked up marinated in Baras' blood nobody feels like debating that last possibility. They have enough problems as it is.

It's irrelevant either way. When in doubt, the apprentice inherits the master. Which leaves the question: _Which one?_

Asking them is a lost cause and not because they're grappling for the honor as they should be. Talionis hasn't said a single word since they were detained and Sar's reaction to the subject of his master's untimely death did not invite further questioning.

_"Do you know who took your master's life? Was it you?"_

_Sar leans across the blank metal table, with a smile that has the interrogator shrinking back imperceptibly. Madness flickers in his eyes, burned so deep red they look like they are cut from bloodgems. "Would you like to find out?"_

_In a desperate attempt to mask their own unease, Mortis’ minion grasps for control. “Don’t dissemble. We have ways to make you talk.”_

_There’s a pause. A stray lick of power makes static crackle through the recording. The first notes of Sar’s response melt into the imperfection so seamlessly a viewer is hard pressed to catch it even when they know what is coming._

_It starts as a rumble, rising to dissonant peals that leave him gasping for breath, like a broken hinge attached to a bellow. Faced with a threat of the worst the Empire has to offer the young Sith starts to laugh, laugh and laugh, and he doesn’t stop until the feed cuts out._

Marr has been privately cursing Baras’ name ever since that preliminary investigation concluded. Force damn him, what was he up to?

It would hardly be the first time a ranking Sith has abused a student to the brink of insanity but it is nothing if not _inconvenient_. Especially when the same pupil then stands to take his master's place and, as in this case, have a hand in running the Empire. But such is their tradition. If those two were one this debate would already be over.

"Gentlebeings," Darth Vowrawn's leisurely drawl sidles up to Marr's ears and makes his warning bells ring immediately. "Why bother ourselves over this? Why don’t we let them sort it out, see who comes out on top. Our little problem should set itself to rights without our interference, shouldn't it?"

It was a perfectly reasonable suggestion at the time. From _Vowrawn_. Marr should have truly known better than to trust it.

* * *

It's not that they're incompetent. In fact, Darth Marr has had little to complain about on that front, despite the arguably questionable state of mind their leaders of Military Offense were in when they took office.

They compliment each other in temper and approach to strategy.

Darth Talionis is a man of few words, a bastion of restraint one might call unbecoming of a Sith if it weren't for the vein of raw, world-eating rage his cool demeanour covers like a blanket of snow. Once Baras' foremost assassin for longer than most have survived serving his exacting standards, he prefers subtlety, efficiency and ruthlessness in all things.

His enemies tend to die a quick, incredibly brutal death, in the event that they do manage to rile him enough to waste his attention on them, unless they make the mistake to upset him so much he feels a need to draw out their end.

Thankfully most of his focus is usually bound up in his duties and his partner's… _activities_. The collateral damage would be staggering, were it otherwise. For someone who is as unmoved by the galaxy at large as Talionis is he has an incredibly low tolerance for foolishness, with one exception and one alone.

Darth Sar, who encompasses that exception, is as different from his other half as night from day. His temper burns quick and hot as a magnesium flare and tends to cause just as little in damage to innocent bystanders, though he is ever vocal in his disapproval of anything and anyone who crosses his path. His favorite type of strategy, as far as Marr can tell, is delivered with a bloody smile and best summarized as ' _Oh,_ _this is going to be **fun**._' That, to his grief, is a direct quote.

Sar favors frontal assaults that he likes to lead himself, devastating strikes against his enemies' morale and… _creative_ solutions.

Marr has to tame his own temper in the face of Sar's apparent martial disorganization regularly. The young Sith is not nearly as unbothered by moderation as he appears at first glance. A differentiated study of casualties proves time and again that between their two Heads of Military Offense _Sar_ is the one more prudent in the spending of the lives of his Sphere. His presence generally tempers Talionis’ more callous, far-reaching approach and adds a flexibility his partner's well-structured plans otherwise lack.

Truly, Sar's ability to improvise tactics on the fly is a marvel. If only it didn't come with the most colorful vocabulary this side of Hutt space and the disrespect to match.

Marr has been tempted to wring his neck on more than one occasion.

Together Talionis and Sar encompass all of the best and all of the _worst_ traits he has ever had to endure from someone in their position but while they are both present, their differences somehow find an orbit of balance and efficiency.

Under their rule their Sphere works seamlessly, _perfectly_ , as he is once again made to experience today, right up until they are _separated_ for any length of time and it doesn't matter which of them remains to hold down the fort. The crux of the situation is this: If you take one of his two colleagues out of the equation the whole foundation of their leadership starts to come apart.

As if the missing counterweight to their most destructive tendencies wasn't troublesome enough it takes less than a day for _both_ of them to go off the rails in ways no one who promoted that situation deliberately has survived. 

Case in point.

"I don't _care. Find. Them._ " Darth Talionis’ voice is a snarl. Where he wouldn't have time to waste on repeating himself on any other day, he has been breathing down his men's neck with that demand for hours, his fuse growing ever shorter with each negative report.

The assassin's patience has eroded to nothing under the one strain it seems he can't endure: the loss of his fellow ruler, no matter how temporary.

His soldiers are working with the fevered efficiency of people who are aware their Lord is one wrong move away from killing them in a fit of rage.

Tense silence reigns in their improvised headquarters. Shift change is swiftly approaching, _again_ , and seeing as the last shift hasn't dared leave yet under Talionis’ watchful eye Marr might actually have to step in once it does. No one is served by working their forces into the ground.

It has been thirty eight hours since they lost contact to Sar's strike team. With the visibility on Yavin's jungle moon being what it is they might as well have disappeared off the face of the planet. Possibly _intentionally_ , knowing Sar.

Darth Marr is more than ready to give the man a piece of his mind upon his return, an event he does not doubt will come to pass, never mind Talionis’ belly-aching. Playing peacekeeper between the Jedi and a Sith Lord at the brink of a nervous breakdown is not a role he cares for.

Satele has arrived from her own off-cycle only minutes ago and the furrows on her brow are growing deeper rapidly. If Marr is any judge he's about to have to keep her from setting the stage for a repeat performance of the Sacking of Coruscant right here at the war table. Talionis has no tolerance for Jedi on a good day and this is _not_ a good day.

There is only one spot of light at the end of the tunnel of this entire disaster: Sar is just as bad as his counterpart in his own ways. If this takes much longer, all they'll have to do is detect the site of the largest explosion in the general vicinity he was last sighted.

Admitting he can barely wait for that to happen might be the most distasteful thing Marr has to do today but he's holding out judgement on that front. At least until Satele has had a chance to try and deliver the lecture he can _see_ her gearing up for.

Force, he can't believe this is the best in support he has at his disposal. It's a travesty.

* * *

Five hours, one very large explosion (and several smaller ones) and a rather unnecessary rescue mission later Sar finally manages to disentangle himself from his partner turned Dorian strangling vine long enough to fumble blindly for his comm unit. 

He's beat but he won’t get a wink of sleep unless he can be sure their Sphere is not about to come down around their ears.

Thankfully all seems to be well in their little kingdom. … or mostly well.

With a sense of foreboding Sar opens the one message in his inbox so new it's marked as 'recent'. He can feel one of his eyebrows twitch at the content.

It's something of a petition, signed anonymously by a number of people that aligns suspiciously well with their command staff and boils down to 'for the love of all that is holy, please sir, please don’t leave us alone with Lord Talionis, he gets scary' in more flowery, tactical sounding shlubba.

"Somminick."

His partner makes a semi-conscious sound where he has buried his face in Sar's neck. Thank the Force they're both still _dressed_ , as much as you can survive in this climate, Sar doesn't have the energy to get kriffed within an inch of his life right now. "Hm?" 

"Have you been taking out your bad mood on our men again?"

Even mostly braindead Somminick is capable of finding the right answer to that tone. "... no?"

"That's a filthy lie isn't it."

"... maybe."

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two so much. Somehow they still manage to be a single idiot sandwich whether they're together or not XD
> 
> Sar gets a lot of petitions. He might be the only Sith on the Dark Council who actually reads them.


End file.
